<Begin Segment 23>

AI: Well, so tell us about the move from Puyallup to Minidoka. That was in August of 1942.

RI: Well, I think that's when we took our first train trip. Well, as I told you, our family never had a car. I had never been on a train. Well, we went to Japan so at least we were on a ship, but being on a train, it was our first train ride. So, maybe it was sort of a novelty. But I don't remember that all the curtains were drawn and we couldn't look outside. But as a family we all stayed together so it seemed like it took a long time. But, it was more the novelty of a plane -- of a train ride that impressed me more than anything.

AI: And then when you got there, tell us what you saw at Minidoka when you arrived.

RI: I don't know how we were transported from the train station to the area. Apparently we were bussed out of there and given assignment in the barracks. And the barracks were very dusty and unfurnished. And I think there were cots on there, but we still had to get our mattresses and army blankets and all lined up, seven beds all lined up, and a potbelly stove at one end. But somehow I give credit to the Isseis in not making a big fuss about how awful conditions are and just accepting what's there and making the best of it. That's all that I could remember. Because gradually somebody got a table or built a table and we had tables and chairs, but until then there wasn't any. And gradually people started to make a garden just outside their door, porch, and going, learning to use public facilities like showers and restrooms and laundry facilities. You know, to have to share all that and learning to live together without fighting about it is quite, quite a adjustment, community living, sharing. But, but before long I think I found employment. I... before long there were, the hospital was being maintained and lot of the nurses were starting to work in the hospitals. And I got a job as a nurse's aide, although I had no experience, but I learned a lot. They taught me how to make a bed, tight, tight bed, and how to use, give somebody a bedpan and that kind of thing, how to give a bed bath while a person's lying down, how to bathe a person, all that. So...

DG: Who taught you these things?

RI: Beg your pardon?

DG: Was it a hakujin that taught you? Nihonjin?

RI: No, I think there were other nurses. Well, there were some Nisei nurses and when they were evacuated I think they started to work in the hospital. And the doctors, too, like Dr. Suzuki, I think he was one of the doctors there. And there was a hakujin doctor who was in charge. So one of the, one of the nurses, seems like her name was Katagiri, but anyway she knew that I was in pre-med so she asked me if I'd like to see a delivery, baby delivery. So she called me one day and I went to see. And then the mother was in labor and when the baby's head started to come out the baby had a cleft palate. And there was a split down here. And it looked really grotesque and, ooh, I think just the shock of seeing that. I thought I almost fainted. I don't know if I fainted or I almost did, but I had to go out of the room. That was the first delivery I ever witnessed. So, it was quite a shock. I don't know whose baby that was but... then, I don't remember witnessing any operations, but there was surgery going on. But this nurse who invited me to see the delivery was very nice to me. But there was another nurse who was very mean to me. And she said, "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be in here." And she chased me out. I don't know what I was doing. Maybe I was observing some surgery, but I always remembered her because I thought, "Oh, she's so mean." But anyway, to this day I always think, you know, you don't have to be mean to people. There, there are ways to be nice and kind. But anyway... because it's too bad that that's the kind of thing I remember. You know, bad things, but maybe it teaches me, now, be careful, don't be mean to people, be nice. So, maybe it taught me a lesson. But that was my camp experience.

<End Segment 23> - Copyright © 2003 Densho. All Rights Reserved.